


Searching for an Outlet

by Alexicon



Series: dc works [16]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7084384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexicon/pseuds/Alexicon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's too hot for Tim's temper to be so damn cool.</p><p>(Or, it's hot, and then it gets a little hotter.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Searching for an Outlet

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS NOT ANY OF THE TEN PROJECTS I'M WORKING ON AHHHHH BRAIN WHY
> 
> At least I finished something?? I guess???

Jason is calm. He’s so calm. He’s the _calmest_ \--

“Fuck!” Jason shouts, and kicks the wall. Usually he might punch it too, for good measure, but that’s not possible when his hand’s in a cast and _useless_. It’s too hot for this, really. His patience is shot all to hell. He wishes he’d plugged the fan in before he’d sprained his wrist, or even before he’d had to learn that the air conditioning wasn’t only not on yet, it was also broken.

“What’d that wall ever do to you?” says Tim’s amused voice from behind him.

Jason doesn’t jump, because he’s a pro, but he does sigh and rest his head against the wall he just kicked.

“Didn’t grow a goddamn electrical outlet when I wanted it to.”

“That must’ve broken your heart.”

“It _did_ ,” Jason spits out. “It means that the only outlet that’ll work is behind the damn _bookshelf_.”

“Which you can’t move because your wrist is sprained,” Tim realizes.

“Nope,” Jason growls. He punctuates it with another kick to the wall and turns around. “What’s up? Why are you here?”

“I came to visit you, of course. I was going to head out for lunch, but I thought it’d be better if I had lunch here. It’s very hot, you know.”

“Air conditioner’s broken. Landlady said she’d get it fixed, but hell if I know when _that’s_ gonna happen.”

“And you’re looking for a place to plug the fan in.”

“Aaand I’m looking for a place to plug my fan in.” Jason sighs and drops down, so that he’s sitting against the wall and staring up at Tim.

Tim looks good. He’d obviously been doing something as Tim Wayne this morning -- his cufflinks probably cost more than anything in this whole apartment other than the grenade-launcher (that Jason hopes Tim doesn’t know about) behind the Sesame Street blanket in the closet, but Tim’d shed his jacket by the door and is working on his buttons now.

Sometimes Jason hates that Tim can just drop fancy stuff like that on the floor without thinking about it.

He finally asks once Tim starts on his pants. “What are you doing?”

Tim flashes a grin as he slides his pants down. “It’s hot in here, and I’d really rather not try to move a bookshelf in this thing.” He finally straightens and flexes his hands a few times like he’s trying to remember what to do with them.

Then Tim hauls the bookshelf out of the way in a single, smooth push.

“You _motherfucker_ if you scratched my floor I’m gonna _kill you_ ,” Jason mutters.

His floor is intact, though, so luckily he doesn’t have to commit boyfriend-icide today. And there is, miraculously, an outlet. Jason almost falls on his knees in thanks. Instead, he scrambles to jam the fan’s plug in and laughs hysterically, raising his hands to meet the cool air finally blowing on him.

“You’re getting a little supervillain on me here, Jason,” Tim tells him, grinning. “I’m worried about you.”

“You should be,” Jason says, and springs for Tim. Tim goes down easily, half surprised and half trusting Jason not to let him get hurt. Jason cradles Tim’s head in his good hand and tries not the let the cast bonk either of them on the head. It mostly works. Neither of them have head injuries. But Tim starts giggling once they’re down and it’s the cutest damn thing Jason’s heard in a week, so he wriggles his hand out from under Tim’s head and goes for the ribs with deadly accuracy, and Tim starts shrieking out his laughter.

As Tim’s squirming, though, he takes out Jason’s elbow and Jason lands face-first into Tim’s shoulder.

“My _collarbone_ ,” Tim complains. He tries in vain to shift Jason off him. “Oh my god, Jason, get off me. I’m going to overheat. You’re too hot.”

“Hot _damn_ ,” Jason murmurs real low, and blows in Tim’s ear. There’s nothing in the world quite like Tim’s squeals, he muses, humming quietly. He can’t suppress his grin as he leans in again, this time to bite Tim’s earlobe.

Tim makes another hilarious sound and pulls Jason’s hair just hard enough that he has to draw his head back unless he wants a bald patch along with the streak of white.

“No biting,” Tim orders.

“You’re just so bitable,” Jason tells him, watching as Tim’s eyes fix on his throat. “I couldn’t resist. Maybe I’m a vampire, Tim, maybe I need to suck your blood.” He puts on a slight Bela Lugosi accent even though he’s pretty sure he’s mutilating the quote beyond repair. It doesn’t matter; Tim’s obviously not in the mood to correct him on it.

Tim hums and lunges up to run his tongue along Jason’s throat, so quickly that Jason can only really tell he’s done it by the chill the fan’s breeze leaves on his skin.

Jason swallows and closes his eyes for a moment.

“I can’t believe people think you’re cool,” Tim mutters, lying back again.

“Nah, I’m not _cool_ , weren’t you the one who just told me I was hot?” Jason’s not thinking too hard about what he’s saying anymore. He’s lucky he’s always been good at running his mouth, because if he didn’t have that ‘gift of gab’ (as Alfred always put it) he’d be lost right now, no banter, no flirting, nothing. He hadn’t been expecting Tim to come over today. It’d been a week or so (or nine days, but who’s counting?) since they’d seen each other, and Jason had _missed_ Tim.

“I missed you,” Jason says aloud, and _that_ , not the biting or the wrestling or even the heat, is what makes Tim blush and smile shyly up at Jason through his eyelashes. Damn it, who allowed Tim to be this adorable? Jason can’t help but kiss him, trying not to let his smile take over his face as he presses his lips to Tim’s.

“So why are we still on the floor and not examining your very cute Star Wars sheets?” Tim asks as he pulls back, eyebrows raised.

“Shut up about my sheets,” Jason tells him automatically. “Wouldn’t you rather stay here? It’s cool right here, and we’re already down here, and it’s _cool_...”

Tim pauses and narrows his eyes. “It’s _really_ hot in your room, isn’t it?”

“The sun shines right through the window the whole day, I don’t know how it works. This is Gotham, right? Where are the clouds? And I’m pretty sure my bedroom was originally designed as a greenhouse for those really needy desert plants.”

Tim squirms a little and resettles his shoulders on the floor. “All right. But you’ve got to take your sweatpants off, that’s the deal.”

Jason eyes said sweatpants and frowns. He’d have to get up to take them off, and he is _not_ looking forward to that.

“If you roll off me, I can take them off for you?” Tim offers, looking especially mischievous.

That was probably his goal from the beginning, Jason realizes, exasperated and amused all at once.

He bats his eyes and gives the wide Robin-smile that’d charmed almost everyone he'd ever met. It works on Tim too most of the time, even though Tim’s got a Robin-smile of his own to break hearts with. “Gosh, Mister Drake, that’d sure be swell of you,” Jason says innocently. He leans in to savor another kiss before dropping onto the floor and grinning at the faces Tim makes trying to fight the cloth off his skin while Jason, to get even more of a reaction out of Tim, just lets his legs flop wherever they landed.

The sweatpants end up lying across Tim’s fancy suit pants. Jason can’t help but like the sight of that, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://lexiconallie.tumblr.com)!
> 
> I am _pretty sure_ this is the raciest thing I've ever posted. I was not expecting that. In an alternate universe, other-me will have gone with her original plan to just have them fall asleep on the floor after eating sandwiches. Um. I hope you're all glad you're in this universe instead. Fingers crossed, hehehe.


End file.
